As you might have guessed about the weekend before our wedding, we ran around like idiots trying to get as much done as possible. Saturday was a blur of Lockard women, paint, lobster bisque, and cigar smoke. While the hedges were being weeded and trimmed out front, I was able to get 3/4 of the living room and half of the dining room painted—20 years of cigarettes and general dust gave way to bright white. At 7 my best man Rob stopped over to pick me up for an evening out with the boys. We had a fantastic dinner at Louisiana in Fell’s Point, then stopped across the street for drinks and cigars, courtesy of Brizzi, and then capped it off with more drinks on Rob’s roof deck.

Sunday morning I woke with a pounding hangover—the problem with excellent vodka is that you don’t know just how much you’ve had until you’re flagged and falling off the barstool. We had 11am reservations for brunch at Little Havana with a bunch of people, so I scraped the carpet off my tongue and poured my carcass into the car. I’ll have you know that I was OK until the first bloody mary hit my stomach, and then I realized that hair of the dog was a Very Bad Thing. It was the fried plantains that flipped the switch, but after quietly vacating my stomach I felt much better. The rest of the day was punctuated by frequent glasses of cool water.

Wedding Tunes. I posted a new page with the expanded and updated wedding tune playlist; again, I’ve set it up with comments so you can suggest a song.

Tortoise Update: The ATF fluid is helping, but it looks like I’m going to need to disregard the “DO NOT ADD BEYOND THIS LINE” warning and add some more. She shifted and stopped fine, but the final 1/2 mile of lights and turns brought out some unwelcome lurching.